


Trials, Tribulations, and Trolls

by caliowl, NightFoliage



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, Incest, Jealousy, M/M, Making Up, Old Men In Love, Post-Canon, Stan O War shennanigans, Twincest, solidifying their love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliowl/pseuds/caliowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFoliage/pseuds/NightFoliage
Summary: Stan and Ford fight, of course they do. They haven’t been living together for over 30 years and now they’re never apart, always together on that boat of theirs. But none of the fights are serious, and a little time apart or a little loving usually fixes things right up.They have another fight on what they think is a little deserted island in the Atlantic, but ends up having one anomalous resident who challenges Stan for the right to Ford’s hand.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Stan Pines
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56





	Trials, Tribulations, and Trolls

“I can’t  _ believe _ I let you talk me into that!” Stan growls. He’s securing the boat to the dock with a particularly vicious tug on a rope. He drops his voice into a mocking, slightly nasally baritone. “‘Don’t be so dramatic, Stanley, it’s a simple retrieval mission.’ ‘Don’t yell so loudly, Stanley, the vicious bird-women are sleeping!’ ‘Don’t save our asses, Stanley, I’m about to throw my special rock at them!’”

A thunderous pair of footsteps round the bow and beeline straight for him. Stan tilts his head from side to side, popping his joints and rolling his shoulders in preparation for a good fight. Moses knows he needs one. Ford might be a nerd, but after spending all that time in his Nerd Dimension he was definitely no weakling.

Stanford draws himself up to his full height in front of his twin, and points that annoying, arrogant pointer finger right in his face. “I’ll have you know that that ‘special rock’ was a sculpture of a Gorgon head, a symbol that was commonly used in ancient Greece to avert evil! I’d even doused some special oils on it to make it extra potent, but  _ you _ decided we’d be much better off trying to bludgeon them to death with a  _ literal olive branch _ !”

“Hey!” Stan barks, smacking the offending finger away with a quick strike of his hand. Then he points a finger in  _ Ford’s _ face.  _ See how annoying this is, nerd? _ “It was the only thing around after  _ you _ convinced me a retrieval mission wouldn’t require any of our better weapons! Why would you even say that if you knew what we’d be up against?”

“Because I had everything under control, Stanley!” Ford snaps back. “I had collected everything that was known back in the time of ancient Greece to ward off potentially vicious-!”

“- _ Potentially  _ vicious?!”

“-Yes! Yes, potentially, Stanley, because we were only supposed to take one egg for study and then return it to the nest! Not beat them with a dried up, flaming branch!”

Stan barks out a laugh that is dripping with contempt. “You actually thought we could take an egg from a  _ harpy _ without packing some serious heat?” He shakes his head, “You’re crazier than I thought! Putting our asses on the line for some giant chicken egg-”

“A  _ harpy egg _ , Stanley!” Ford interrupts, swinging a fist down as if pounding on an invisible table. “And we weren’t in any serious danger! I had everything-”

“-Under control, yeah, I heard you the first time.” Stan growls, sticking a pinky finger in his ear and wiggling it around while wincing, as if Ford’s yelling is affecting his hearing. He watches his twin go red to his ears with sick satisfaction. “Face it, Ford, you fucked up. Just be lucky we got outta there in one piece, and that your crazy schemes didn’t get us killed.” 

“Stop calling me crazy!” Stanford is really worked up now, Stan can tell. His eyes are bright with unshed tears and his breathing is wild. “I thought you believed in me! I thought you  _ trusted _ me!”

Stan scoffs. “Yeah, sure, when you’re not trying to risk my neck out there!”

Stanford purses his lips together into a fine line before swiftly turning his back on his brother. “I need some air,” he throws a glare over his shoulder as he hops onto the dock. “I’m going for a walk.”

“We’re already outside, genius!” Stan shouts at his retreating back. When Ford continues to storm off, Stanley jumps onto the dock and calls after him. “Ford! C’mon, come back!” 

But it was too late. His brother reaches the end of the dock and takes off in the direction of the woods they’d seen from the boat earlier. With a heavy sigh, Stan lets him go. Better to let his fool of a twin let off some steam first before going after him.

\-----

Stan spends the next couple of hours cleaning the boat before he takes a well-earned lunch break. He makes two turkey sandwiches, one with a side of chips for him and a salad for Ford, and eats quietly by himself. He tries to admire his handiwork and cleaning skills as he notes some of the more trickier stains’ absences, but the lone turkey sandwich sitting across from him keeps distracting him. 

He settles for glaring at the offending meal as he polishes off his own sandwich, before picking up a chip and using it to point accusingly. “Don’t give me that look,” Stan tells the sandwich sternly, “he was way outta line this time. Thinking he could just leave me in the dark about some terrifying harpy-thingies because he had a magic  _ rock _ ? Gimme a break!” As if to emphasize the point, he takes a particularly harsh bite out of a chip, relishing the satisfying  _ crunch _ . “Those things may be ‘creatures of legend’ or whatever, but their talons and claws are  _ very _ real!” 

Stan picks up another chip and taps it impatiently on his plate. “He  _ always _ does this! Just because he thinks he’s got it handled with his weird, sci-fi nerd science doesn’t mean I can’t back him up with a good left hook or two! It’s certainly saved our bacon a few times!”

He tosses the hapless chip in the air and grunts as it misses his mouth and bounces off his chin. “Ford always goes in way too gung-ho and is  _ way _ too secretive. I mean, would it  _ kill _ him to gimme a heads up about these things once in a while?”

Stan pops the chip in the air once more and this time it misses his mouth by a couple of inches and bounces off his cheek, toppling to the tabletop. Stan’s eyebrows knit in consternation. “It’s like he thinks they’re some sort of fun ‘surprise’ or something,” he mutters to himself, idly pushing a crumb that broke off on the chip’s landing around the table in thought. “Like when we were kids and he’d find something on the beach that he was excited to show me. He never wanted to just  _ tell _ me, he always wanted to  _ show _ me.”

Stan could remember that younger Ford now, smile wide and eyes alight with glee as he played a guessing game with his twin.  _ “Oh, Stanley, you’re never going to  _ believe _ what I found the other day! Guess! Guess what it is! No, of course I can’t just  _ tell _ you! That’d ruin the surprise! Come on, come on! Guess again!” _

For whatever reason, Ford was always like that. Always had “a bit of the showman in him”, as their mother would say. And Stan had to admit that he really liked that aspect of his brother. To be honest, he found it rather charming that his twin always got so excited and passionate about new things that he wanted to show off. It’s just when those new things happened to involve danger, mayhem or just general violence, Stan would like to be warned ahead of time.

Stanley breathes out a heavy sigh and looks sullenly around the tiny room. The dishes were all washed and put away by Ford the previous night, and he remembers coming up behind him to steal a kiss, laughing as his head was pushed away with a sudsy hand. Everything seems so eerily quiet now without the background chatter or sounds of his twin working on some research or doo-dad. 

“I suppose I was outta line too,” he admits to the empty space as he picks up another chip to spin idly on his plate. “Shouldn’t have called Ford crazy. He’s not crazy ‘n he’s never been crazy. Hates that.” 

Visions of a crying Stanford cloud his mind’s eye, phantom sobs and visions of pinched features lined with errant tears creating a pit of shame in his stomach. Kids could be cruel, and so could adults, now that he thought of it. So many people that looked at Ford as lesser-than or  _ other _ , all because of his hands and his passion. Two of the most beautiful things about him! People could be so blind.

...And, in this case, he was upset to discover that he could be included in that category.

Stan  _ never _ wants to be in that category.

“Suppose I better go find him and apologize,” he decides, flipping the chip he was playing with in the air. This time it falls right into his mouth, just barely grazing his dentures. “Hah!” He crows triumphantly, his joy somewhat subdued when there was no reply, questioning or otherwise. 

He had a brother to find.

\-----

The area they’ve decided to stop at is nice, Stan discovers as he walks through the forest on his mission to find his errant twin. The trees are tall and broad, and the foliage is dense and lush. Under other circumstances he’d love to spend more time exploring it all, but currently the thick tufts of greenery were making his search tough. The sturdy tree branches weren’t doing him any favors either, as they were keen on grabbing at his jacket and holding on for dear life.

“Stupid-! Rrgh! Dumb  _ trees _ !” Stan grumbled heatedly under his breath, yanking his arm away from the latest branch to pull a fast one. “Should’ve come in here with a damn  _ machete _ !”

“Stanley?!”

Stan stills instantly, eyes wide. Ford? Was that Ford he’d just heard?

“Stanley, is that you?!”

“Stanford!” He cries, relieved. “Where the hell are ya?!”

“Over here!” 

His eyes narrow. “Where is ‘here’, Ford?! I can’t see a damn thing except trees!”

“Oh! I’m by- Do you see a very tall tree?!”

“Do I see-? Stanford, we’re  _ surrounded _ by tall trees! C’mon, use that big, dumb brain of yours!” Stan groused, stumbling through the bushes toward where he thought he heard Ford’s voice coming from.

“The one shaped like Merhan Muenster from The Muensters!”

“ _ What?! _ ” Stanley stands stock still, gaping at the sheer  _ ridiculousness _ of that-

...Hold on…

...No way.

“Hold on! I think I see it!” He calls back, turning right slightly to head toward one of the taller, thicker trees in the forest.

Instead of a conical top like the others, it appears as though this one had gotten snapped in half somehow. The “top” is slightly jagged like the unruly hair of Merhan Muenster from their favorite childhood show, and there even appears to be a grumpy face below it in the bark. Two knotholes with heavy lines in the bark make for some intimidating eyes and an old cut with sap dribbling out make it look as if the poor guy had spit up on himself. You know, if you squint. And tilt your head to the left.

Stanley laughs despite himself. 

“You see it, right?! With the hair and-?!”

“And the face?! Yeah, I see it!” He chuckles, as he makes his way toward a lighter area beyond the tree. Some sort of clearing. “Only you could see something like tha-!”

_ BIG. _

For a second, that was the only thought in Stanley’s mind as he stands on the edge of the clearing, as his brain sputters out at the sight of a large, imposing figure looming over the space.

It was a humanoid-like creature, tall and built like a brick house, with longer arms than you would see on a person that reaches past the thing’s knees. It has a low brow that rests over bushy, thick caterpillar eyebrows and shadowed dark, intense eyes. Its nose looks to have been broken sometime in the past (most likely in a fight, as Stan was familiar with those injuries, but who in their right mind would fight  _ that _ ?) and the creature has a large underbite. 

The thing was wearing a simple green tunic and brown drawstring pants, looking every bit like the trees in the woods that it appeared from. Stan can’t help but notice that the thing doesn’t have anything that resembles shoes, as he studies the feet to look for any other differences between them and his own. Other than remarkably thick soles, they look pretty human, aside from the green skin and yellow toenails.

“What’re  _ you _ lookin’ at, shortstack?”

The deep, guttural voice grinds out, and effectively knocks Stan from his reverie.

“What? Who? Me?” Stan asks, like he is one of dozens of passersby and not the lost, alone, old man he actually is. “Nothing. No one. I was just temporarily blinded by your exceedingly handsome good looks! But now I think I’ll just keep walk-”

“Stanley?  _ There _ you are!”

Stan startles violently at the address, and stares in shock as his brother appears from  _ behind the giant thing _ and starts right for him. Figures that  _ Ford _ wouldn’t know Death if it bit him in the ass, but that’s why Stan always thought he was born. Someone needed to look after a nerd with twice the brains and none of the self preservation.

“I’m so glad I found you! While I was out here hiking, I discovered all sorts of-”

As soon as Ford is within nabbing distance, that’s just what Stan does. He loops an arm through his twin’s and presses it so close to his side it’s almost like he attaches himself to Ford. 

“Knowing you, Poindexter, you’ve discovered all  _ sorts _ of amazing stuff while you were out here! Why don’t you tell me all about it as we make our way back to the boat, huh?” He asks as he manhandles his brother back the way he came, ignoring Ford’s looks of concern.

They almost make it to the edge of the clearing when a large boulder lands in front of them, effectively cutting off their escape.

“Sweet  _ Moses _ !”

“Fungus!”

Stan whips his head around to look at Ford, who is directing a stern look at the creature, who is standing next to a patch of dirt where Stan realizes now the boulder once rested.

“Did you just-? I-?  _ Fungus? _ ” Stan cries, as he looks over at the creature who is currently glaring daggers at him. “Seriously?”

“Don’t be rude, Stanley, it’s his  _ name _ .”

“I can see why it’s not  _ Fungi _ , huh, Ford?” He asks, nudging his brother and watching with glee as Ford facepalms. “Get it? Because he’s not a  _ fun guy- _ ?”

“Yes, Stanley, I get it.”

“Because he tried to  _ murder _ us?”

“He didn’t try to murder us, Stanley, don’t be so melodramatic!” Ford lectures as Stan stares at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, I was just trying to murder  _ you _ ,” the creature corrects Stan and Ford’s mouth falls agape.

“Oh, never mind! The murderous monster-”

“ _ -Troll-” _ The creature-the  _ troll _ , Stan supposes, interrupts him.

“-was simply trying to kill  _ me _ , not you! So everything’s just peachy-keen then!”

“ _ You _ would be acting murderous too, if someone swooped in to take your-”

“Alright, stop. Stop!” Ford demands, stepping slightly away from Stan to get in between the two, arms outstretched. “Now, I don’t understand how everything turned on its head so fast, but you’re both reasonable men-”

Stan and Fungus both snort at this, and glare at each other.

“I’m  _ sure _ we can work this out.” Ford says, switching his stern look from Stan to the troll. 

“There’s nothing to  _ work out _ , Ford,” Stan tells him. “We were heading back to the boat and then this  _ fungus _ here tried to kill me!”

Ford levels him with a Look that lets Stan know he heard the lowercase ‘f’ in that sentence, and then turns to look at the troll with an inquisitive expression. “As much as you claim to be wanting to kill my brother, I can’t believe you actually mean it, seeing as you deliberately missed us with that boulder.” He pointedly ignores Stan’s gobsmacked expression. “You _ knew  _ that I was calling him over. Why were you so rude to him when he got here?”

Fungus grunts, glaring at Stanley from under the fringe of his dark mop of hair. “He was  _ staring _ .”

“Yes, well, Stanley’s never seen a troll before. And as we’d discussed earlier, it’s not uncommon for human strangers to become frightened when they see you.” Stanford points out. “I think you can give him a pass for his earlier behavior, considering the circumstances.”

Fungus takes a step closer to Ford and takes one of his hands in both of his. “He was trying to  _ take you away _ ,” he insists, as he bends down to meet Ford’s eyes beseechingly. “I couldn’t risk another suitor coming along to take you away from me.”

Stanley’s sure his eyes are bulging out of his head. Across the few feet that separate them, he can see Ford’s eyes are in no better state. “I-I’m sorry,” he hears his brother stutter. “A-another  _ suitor _ ?”

“Were you unaware of my intentions?” Fungus asks, tilting his head slightly. “I thought I was being clear earlier. But perhaps a human partner requires human romantic gestures.” With that, he raises Ford’s trapped hand to his mouth and grazes the back of it with his lips, lightly. “My little gem, you deserve better than a partner who doesn’t appreciate you or your passions. Please, come stay with me and I’ll show you what you’ve been missing, how you  _ deserve _ to be treated.”

As he watches Ford’s face resemble more of a tomato as the troll goes on, Stanley finds himself getting angrier with each deepening hue. He stomps over and snatches Ford’s hand back from Fungus. “Alright  _ homewrecker _ , lemme tell you something,” he growls as he pulls Ford behind him and points a finger in the troll’s chest. “You don’t know  _ nothing _ about me and Ford, got that?”

“Stanley…” Stan hears from behind, and feels a six-fingered hand rest comfortingly on his right shoulder. But he’s not about to be deterred. Especially about  _ this _ .

“Yeah, we don’t always get along and  _ yeah _ , sometimes we fight, but all of that doesn’t mean I don’t  _ care _ . We’ve been through bigger things than  _ you _ , buddy, and you don’t even know the half of what I’d do for him. What I’ve  _ done _ for him! So you’d better back off before I  _ make _ you.”

Stan punctuates the end of his statement with a rough shove to the troll’s chest, which, embarrassingly enough, seems to barely move it. Through his entire speech, Fungus had stared at him nonplussed and it sticks in Stan’s craw how the creature continues to watch him with an unimpressed look on its face. Finally it inclines its head.

“I see,” Fungus rumbles. “So it’s a challenge you want, is it?”

Stan scoffs. “Weren’t you listening, buddy? There  _ is _ no challenge. Ford’s chosen me, and that’s that. Right, Ford?”

He hears his twin clear his throat from behind him. “Stanley’s right, Fungus. I’m afraid there’s nothing to fight  _ for _ . I’ve already chosen him.”

The troll shakes his head in disbelief and before Stan realizes it, he’s been lifted and placed behind the troll so he’s staring at the bow of its spine as it hovers over Ford. 

“My gem, please, I beg you to reconsider! Isn’t it true that we met because I discovered you crying in my woods? Crying over the very creature you claim to love?” Stan startles at the word ‘crying’ and feels a pit in his stomach. He tries to go around the troll to get to Ford, but Fungus manages to deter his every attempt with a large hand and rough shove. “Crying because he called you horrible names! Crying because of his callousness! His selfishness! Don’t you see you deserve better? Can’t you see how happy I could make you here in this place where you found so many things to smile over?”

Stan’s had enough. “Ford, just turn the guy down already so we can  _ go _ !”

That turns out to have been a mistake.

Fungus rounds on him and before Stan can react he discovers he’s pinned to a nearby tree. He feels humid gusts against his face, and when Stan opens his eyes he finds Fungus’s face inches away from his own, breathing harshly, like he’d been running full tilt. The troll glares fiercely at him, and growls low in his throat.

“Stanley!”

Stan sees Ford appear from behind Fungus and reach for him. He’d reach back, except Fungus has him held fast to the trunk of the tree with one massive hand wrapped around his torso, keeping his arms pinned to his sides. When Ford is only a couple of feet away, Fungus’s second hand comes in between them to drag Ford back.

“Please, my gem, please! At least give me the chance of winning you away from this oaf.” Fungus appeals to Ford again, Stanley momentarily forgotten. “We have an old courting tradition in the troll culture. Give me the opportunity to prove myself against him in several trials, and I know you’ll come to see that the choice is obvious. You are an intelligent, insightful man, and I’m sure you would see the benefits of the tradition and how it could help you make your final decision. Please.”

Ford chews on his lower lip as he mulls over the troll’s words, and looks back and forth between Fungus and Stanley. The longer he takes, the tenser Fungus gets, and Stan finds himself getting squeezed tighter and tighter as the seconds wear on.

“Ford,” he says, the word coming out somewhat choked as the pressure builds around his middle. “C’mon, don’t-”

“I accept!” 

Stan groans as he’s finally released, and stumbles a bit when his feet finally touch the ground. He looks up to see Ford wrapped up in a bear hug from Fungus, the troll muttering his repeated thanks into his twin’s fluffy hair. 

“You won’t regret this!” Fungus says, when he releases Ford. “I’ll prove to you once and for all that I’m the better match!”

Ford smiles. “I have no doubt that you’ll do your best. Let me go check on Stanley, and then you can tell us all about your tradition.”

“Of course,” Fungus says, returning Ford’s smile tenfold. “I’ll go make some preparations while you look him over.”

Stan doesn’t plan to give Ford the chance. As soon as his brother wanders over and opens his mouth, Stan cuts him off. “What the  _ heck _ was that, Stanford? We’re doing some sort of weird ‘mating tradition’ now?! I-”

“Shh! I know, Stanley, I know, ok?” Ford hisses, and he looks over his shoulder to locate Fungus in the background before continuing. “I don’t like this any more than you do-”

“Oh really? Is that the case, ‘my gem’?” Stan demands, throwing quotation marks over the affectionate title. “Because from where I’m standing, you seem to be  _ way _ too into this!”

Ford sputters indignantly. “I-! You-! Oh, Stanley, you idiot!” He yells. “Do you have any better ideas?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do! Why don’t we just hightail it outta here and head for the boat?”

“And what if he comes after us? Trolls are surprisingly fast, Stanley. What if he reaches us before we get to our boat? I don’t have any weapons on me and I’m afraid you may be outmatched in brawn in this particular instance. He had you pinned to a tree in a flash, and he was threatening to break some of your ribs!” Stan looked away, uncomfortable with the intense look in Ford’s eyes. He wasn’t aware Ford had noticed what was going on earlier, but he supposed he should’ve expected his twin to be keenly aware of things. 

He hears Ford take a few calming breaths before he continues. “I propose we go along with it for a while. You distract Fungus while I look for a way to help us escape. I’ll pick some time when he seems the most preoccupied and  _ then _ we’ll make a run for it. Alright?”

Stan thrusts his hands in his pockets and kicks a stray pebble as he thinks over his twin’s proposition. It was true that this Fungus character was strong, although it stung his pride somewhat to hear Ford doubt his strength. And he didn’t know much about trolls, so he couldn’t speak either way about Fungus's speed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see many options besides the one Ford laid out on the metaphorical table. He supposed they’d just have to stick to that plan for now.

But that didn’t mean he liked it, nor did it mean he’d accept it happily. Especially after all this ridiculous flirting right in front of him.

“Fine,” he said, watching the beginning of a smile touch the corners of Ford’s lips. “Just make sure  _ you _ can keep your head in the game and not get distracted by all’a that guy’s pretty words. We both know how you can be around flatterers, Ford.”

The smile dies.

“Why are you being so  _ difficult _ today, Stanley?” Ford hisses, ducking his head in fast and close to Stan’s own. “Why are you insisting on throwing every little thing in my face?”

Stan’s hands clenched into fists in his pockets. “I’m just saying, you have a history, alright? Let’s not make this a big deal.”

For a second, he registers shock and a bit of hurt on Ford’s face, before he pulls back and away, his face turning expressionless. They stand there and look at each other for a few beats of silence, until Ford breaks it.

“...Maybe I’ll just take my time with this, then.”

Stan blinks. “What?”

Ford takes a shaky breath. “Well, it’d be understandable, wouldn’t it? What with my  _ history _ and everything, I mean. Maybe I’ll take my time looking for a way out of this. After all, you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, and it’s not like you seem terribly invested in the outcome of this whole thing.”

Stan grits his teeth. “Come off it, Ford, you know I-”

“My gem? I have prepared several of the challenges. Are you and...this one, ready to begin?”

Stan opens his mouth to give Fungus a piece of his mind, but Ford beats him to the punch.

“I believe so, Fungus. Thank you so much for working so diligently on getting everything set up.” Ford looks up at the troll with a sincere smile on his face that makes Stan’s blood boil, but not nearly as much as when Fungus returns the smile with an absolutely smitten look of his own.

“It is nothing, my dear. For you, I would turn this entire mountainside upside down!” He grins wide at Ford’s amused chuckle while Stan fakes gagging in the background.

“Alright, I think we’re all ready to begin! Fungus, would you mind explaining the tradition to us?”

“Of course, my gem! Here, I’ve written everything down here so you can announce the trials as we go.”

Fungus hands Ford the list, and bends down to read it together with Ford, leaning over his shoulder and pulling him in closer under the guise of being unable to see it well from farther away. 

Stan scrubs his hands over his face and growls in frustration. This is gonna be a  _ long _ day.

\-----

“I shall now announce the challenge!” Ford declares, with a little bit too much enthusiasm. 

Jesus, this is going to end badly. They could have been working together to put down this troll, but no, Ford had to throw a fit and get them both involved in some ‘troll suitor tournament’. His brother was having way too much fun getting fought over, especially when he and Ford were a done deal. 

This is like the triangle all over again, Stan thought rather unkindly. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but really, all someone had to do was flatter the man and Ford would go along with whatever they said. 

Now Stan is here, potentially fighting for his life! Hopefully the trials aren’t too deadly, or Stan might need to pull a runner (that would be a blow to his pride). Unfortunately, he isn’t even confident in his ability to run away (he has to admit that the boulder scared him). And he didn’t think he could count on a game of cards being one of the trials. 

Ford on the other hand is having the time of his life. Although the situation is a bit worrisome, there’s something nice about his brother getting jealous. All of Ford’s life, he felt like romance didn’t come easily to him. Not like it did to Stan, who easily attracted others. (It was the con-man in him probably, but attraction was attraction.)

He knows the troll race is relatively peaceful (after all, Fungus had purposefully missed with the boulder) so he isn’t too worried about the trials being dangerous. Why, the initial list that Fungus gave him were all feats of strength. After that came trials of the mind. Then lastly were the courting...rituals? Quests? 

That actually sounds quite nice. Stan isn’t a big romantic, so even though this is a silly (and culturally interesting) contest, Ford could enjoy it without guilt. 

“First up: feats of strength!” Ford announces, reading off the list that Fungus had given him in the troll language. He had impressed the troll with his multilingual skills, although truthfully he was only reading about one of three words and extrapolating the rest. “The suitors will now show their ability to take care of their mate in the physical world.” 

First up is weight-lifting. Fungus starts by lifting up a mid-size rock and hefting it. Stan does the same, although Ford could see the man’s knees are a bit shaky, but trying to hide it. Oh, this isn’t good for Stan’s back. 

But Ford has faith in his brother. The man is no slouch in the strength department, often displaying his impressive strength during their journey, and worst comes to worst, he can bluff with the best of them. He’s keeping up too as the two of them lift up object after object. 

Ford can’t help but eye their flexing muscles with interest. 

Then Fungus grunts and proceeds to lift a tree out of the ground, roots and all. 

Ford’s mouth drops open and Stan’s expression goes hard, before smoothing out. 

“...I concede,” Stan says. And after Fungus replants the tree, Stan offers the troll a gentlemanly handshake. 

Fungus eyes it, before he smiles, a tad smug. “You gave up too early, I think you could have matched me.” The troll sounds surprisingly sincere. Maybe the show of sportsmanship is improving Fungus's opinion of Stan. 

Stan taps his head. “I’ve got a strategy going, don’t worry about it.”

Fungus bobs his head approvingly, before looking in Ford’s direction. “Well, a stronger opponent only means a better showing for my gem.” 

The corners of his mouth slick up in a smile. “Heh, that’s one point for Fungus,” Ford says. Then goes to the board behind him to mark it down. 

He does so slowly, mind racing. Shit. Maybe Stan had a point. He didn’t think that the troll was so strong. The boulder could have been a fluke and it wasn’t totally out of the realm of human strength, but this contest has proven that Fungus is undoubtedly much stronger than the two of them combined. 

His research had suggested that trolls are a very peaceful race so Ford thought Stan had this contest in the bag. It’s the only reason why he accepted (with the added bonus of making Stan jealous). Ford realizes that Stan could very much lose. 

Fungus might be able to win him, Ford realizes. And if they tried to outrun him-

Ford thinks about the tree ripped straight out of the ground. 

That’s much different than a boulder. 

Isn’t it?

No, no. Trolls are generally peaceful creatures. Ford could figure out a diplomatic solution to their potential problem. He just has to think. 

He turns back and hopes Stan got some rest in that short interval. There are more feats of strength coming up. 

They go through a litany of other events, shot put, a footrace, push-ups, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that Stan can’t keep up. Well, more like Fungus is extremely physically gifted. Ford keeps on marking win after win for the troll. Although, thankfully, the troll didn’t seem to realize the overwhelming advantage he has. 

Ford goes to announce the next event, which is- oh no.

“The next event: arm-wrestling!” 

Ford leans out from his elevated stage as the two suitors set up a table and some chairs. He wants to jump in and stop the event. Stan going against a troll that could crush rocks and lift trees with his bare hands? 

But he can’t interrupt. He knows the sanctity of these courtship trials. To interrupt is taboo, and after seeing what Fungus can do, he’s not sure he wants to do anything to anger the troll. 

When they’re about to start, Ford almost starts biting his nails in nervousness. 

Stan on the other hand, is actually doing better than he thought he could. Once he realized from the first challenge that he was outmatched, he immediately started to save his strength. He used a combination of bluffs and careful acting to only make it seem like he was trying. 

Fungus looks like he might have noticed, but Stan makes sure to add a second-layer of deception to make the troll think Stan is holding back (and not actually much weaker in comparison). 

But to make the bluff work, Stan actually has to win a few events. And here is his chance. Arm-wrestling is just as much a mind game as it is a game of strength. 

Stan makes sure to put his left hand on the table first. Fungus hesitates, before matching him. Good. While Stan is ambidextrous, he noticed that Fungus is right-handed. 

Stan looks at the troll seriously. “I’m going to win this one,” he declares. 

Fungus’ eyes widen at the blatant declaration. “Let’s do this,” says the troll, and tightens his hand around Stan’s. 

Amatuer. 

When Ford declares the start, Stan locks all of his joints and grunts loudly, twisting his whole body. The large movement hides the small twist that he adds to Fungus’ hand, knocking the troll's hand and wrist into a weaker position and the fact that he moves Fungus’s arm in a disadvantageous position. He does all of this in an instant, along with throwing his whole body weight towards his winning side. 

The back of the troll’s hand impacts the make-shift table. 

Silence. 

Then, “It’s, it’s Stanley’s win!” Ford declares. 

Fungus rubs his hand. “Not bad,” he says, eyeing Stan. 

Stan just gives him a polite smile and a shrug. “Wasn’t much.” 

The next few feats end mostly with Stan’s loss, but he wins one or two because Fungus is a little more wary of him, which he thinks is distracting the young troll. 

But Stan needs another decisive win. Something that would make the troll question his skills even further. So Stan bides his time, hoping that another physical challenge would rule in his favor. 

And then he gets it: wrestling. 

“Wrestling is the next event!” Ford declares. 

Stan perks up. “Wrestling?” Stan calls back up to Ford.

“That’s the approximate english translation,” Ford says back, examining the paper. “Although the rules aren’t defined here.” 

They both look expectantly at Fungus, who quickly explains the rules. It sounds like an all-out brawl to Stan, but with the goal to pin down one’s opponent. All except for one rule: 

“You win if you knock your opponent out of the circle?” Stan asks. 

Fungus nods as he draws a circle. Larger than Stan likes, but workable. “It’s an old rule, from the time when trolls used to fight for territory. But it’s not easy for the suitor to watch a whole territory for a fight, so now we make an arena.” 

Okay. Yeah. Stan can work with this.

When they start the fight, Stan moves to meet Fungus in the middle, as if to grapple him, but then darts to the side near the edge. Fungus charges for him and Stan holds his breath- he darts in at the last second to grab the troll’s pants and flip him over his shoulder and out of the circle. 

“Stanley is the winner!” Ford crows. 

Fungus comes back and congratulates him, eyeing him with suspicion. That’s two decisive wins in physical challenges. Enough to really make the troll wonder if Stan has been holding back the whole time. Stan straightens his back and struts. No need to let the troll call his bluff and see that under the mask, Stan is sweating up a storm and thanking his lucky stars. 

\-----

Ford can’t help but eye Stan up and down. He knows that Stan is strong, and seeing him best a troll in physical feats of strength like arm wrestling and sumo seems unheard of, but here they are. 

In this moment, Ford wishes he could go down and offer Stan a more private congratulations. Help him stretch. Get a sip of water. Make sure that he’s taking care of his body. Tell him...how he looked good out there. But alas, Ford would be unable to really interact privately with him until the challenges are done. 

“Now it’s time for the mid-event respite,” Fungus announces. “It’s when the suitors present a meal to the intended.” 

Oh! How nice. 

“We have an hour, let’s go!” Fungus says before taking off. 

“Oh come on, kid,” Stan grumbles, then pretends to follow. Once the troll disappears from sight he turns to Ford. “Should we book it now? We can probably make it out into the water if we head out now.”

There’s a part of Ford that wants to say ‘yes’. This is the best time for it when Fungus is distracted, and truth be told, Ford is getting tired of all the events. The scholarly aspect of the trials were interesting, but he no longer wants to be part of the sidelines, especially when his opinion isn’t very necessary for the troll courtship method. 

But another part of Ford is still angry at Stan. He really has been letting the man rile him up without consequences and he can’t help but ask, “Why? Are you tired of trying to win my hand?” 

“Uh, yeah. Of course I’m tired,” Stan says with a scowl. “This whole suitor business is a sham.”

Ford almost physically recoils. “It’s a sham to try and woo me?”

“Ford, you know that’s not what I mean-”

“Oh, I know what you mean! You don’t think I deserve romance,” Ford snaps. 

“You deserve romance, but this isn’t the same thing-”

“What’s more romantic than two suitors fighting over my hand in challenges meant to show off their skills?” Ford interrupts. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back to my sitting area and wait for the two of you to bring back a meal.” 

And then Ford stomps back to his make-shift announcing area. 

He doesn’t look back at Stan, until he hears the man start to jog away. Ford cracks open an eye to watch the man go (he always did like Stan’s broad shoulders and back and his- well, that isn’t important now). Then he turns away when he can no longer see him. 

The board catches his eye and he sighs. Stan has only a few wins to Fungus’ dozen. It seems unlikely that the man could win against a troll who has been training his whole life to complete the tasks. It would have been logical to leave while the troll was distracted, but Ford couldn’t help himself. He was just so- angry at Stan. The man hasn’t even apologized yet. And it felt so good to have the attention of someone else, someone who could make Stan jealous. Then having the two of them fight over him? Wonderful. 

But Ford supposes he never did consider the chance that Stan would lose. His brother could do anything if he put his mind to it. Sometimes he forgot that Stan was only human (and a pretty old one at that). 

They would likely need an escape plan. (And Ford had just futzed up their best one. There was no telling when they would get another chance like this, especially if there were more trials that tired Stan out.) He would come up with something. 

\-----

There are two meals presented in front of him. One is a green lump that looks charred, while the other is an incomprehensible mess. The former is Stan’s and the latter is Fungus’s. Hopefully they taste better than they look. (Ford supposes that trying to cook a substantial meal in a forest with no tools isn’t easy, but he wishes they could have just done something simple like grilled fish.) 

“As the youngest, I shall present my meal first,” Fungus declares. Stan shoots him a glare. “My meal is an old-time stewed tradition of troll cuisine. It is a delicacy that can only be made by mosses on these islands. I present it to you, my lovely creature.”

A rare delicacy? Well, Ford’s eaten things that looked worse on other planets. 

He takes the offered spoon (a little rough, looks like Fungus just carved it now) and eats a bite, making sure to get some of what looks to be moss. 

Ford has to fight not to change his expression. 

It’s...terrible. Even before he can taste it, the fuzzy, gritty texture of the stew as it touches his tongue makes him want to spit it out. Spoiled is what it feels like, but he manages to clamp his mouth down on it before his gag reflex kicks in. 

The taste is even worse. 

Ford’s whole body is telling him that whatever is in his mouth is rancid, an odd mix of overripe, sour, and dusty just to overwhelm his sense of taste and he’s left knowing there is a mouthful of disgusting ooze in his mouth. God, he just wants to spit it out now. Can he even swallow it? Surely, he’s eaten worse on his journey through other dimensions. (Nothing comes close to mind. At least on the road, if he was going to eat something disgusting, he was half-expecting it. The surprise makes it that much worse.) 

“Indescribable,” Ford manages to say, because Fungus has been looking at him the whole time. “I’ve never had anything like it.” Ford says around a mouthful of mush, hoping the troll won’t notice he hasn’t swallowed. 

Fungus breaks out into a grin. “Thanks. I’ve never had to make it before, but it just seemed right. I don’t cook in general, so you’re my first taste tester,” he continues. 

Oh god. An inexperienced cook. Ford’s stomach rolls, even though he hasn’t actually swallowed anything. What if the meal is poisonous? 

“Yeah, yeah,” Stan gives the troll a light shove. “Now it’s my turn.” 

Ford isn’t looking forward to having to open his mouth and possibly revealing his half-chewed meal, but maybe adding Stan’s cooking will help. 

“Now, I made a simple fish burger mixed with greens. Charred it over a rock myself and everything. There’s also some berries to go with it,” Stan explains. 

Fungus scoffs at the explanation but Ford almost sighs in relief. Some normal food, he can work with that. 

“You’re supposed to use the napkin first to clean up,” Stan continues, before Ford can reach out. 

Ford doesn’t need a napkin- Stan gives him a wink. 

Ah. He gets it. 

Ford uses the napkin and elaborately cleans himself, including wiping his mouth and discretely spitting out the stew. He can finally breathe now. Whew. 

Using the offered utensils (chopsticks that Stan must have quickly carved, which have been nicely smoothed down), Ford takes a bite of the burger- which is quite good! There’s a burst of what must be fish and wild garlic. The greens are a little astringent, but the patty is overall nice and moist and flavorful. 

He almost takes another bite, when he notices Fungus watching his reaction. Shit. He isn’t going to have to eat anymore stew, is he?

“Now we continue on the trials, right?” Stan says, loud enough to draw both of their attention. “That wasn’t an official event, so Ford can eat and watch us at the same time.”

Ford holds his breath, hoping that the troll will take the bait. 

Fungus narrows his eyes, but then smirks. “Got it. No confidence in beating the ol’ tried and true troll recipe, eh? I’m sure we know who would have been the winner here if it was an official event,” Fungus says with a wink. Ford gives him a smile, but says nothing else. “Sure, old guy. It can be dinner and a show.”

Ford clears his throat. “Then, ah- let the games continue.”

The two suitors go to clean up the mess they made and Ford shoots Stan a grateful look. Stan just nods, before going back to his work. 

Right. Perhaps he’s still mad about the ‘not-running-away’ business. 

Stan doesn’t have to worry though. Ford will definitely think of a plan to get them out of this mess if things go south. 

But first, he has to find a way to toss out the stew without Fungus noticing. 

(Ford ends up eating Stan’s meal to the last crumb. Maybe afterwards, he could ask Stan to make it again for him in better circumstances.)

\-----

Stan makes a little bit of a distraction as Ford quickly pours out the stew. He stops once his brother is back in his platform overlooking the area. Thank god whatever is in the stew didn’t make the man immediately sick. They would have to watch out though, maybe something would happen later. He needs to remind Ford to stay hydrated, just in case…

Stan looks away, giving himself a moment to compose himself. 

He’s worried. 

But he’s also angry. 

Ford had just thrown away their best chance to run away and had been angry at Stan for even suggesting it. And now Stan was proven right that this whole thing is a dangerous mess (that stew looked like it could be a biohazard weapon), they have no easy way of escaping. They’re starting up the trials again. It could be hours until another chance presents itself ( _ if _ another chance presents itself) and by then, Stan could be too tired to run. 

This is such a disaster. 

Ford clears his throat and Stan brings his attention back to the present. Maybe he can win. Scratch that, if there’s any chance of winning, Stan is going for it. 

“The next trials are to show strength of mind! Suitors! This will be a test of mental fortitude.” 

Stan gave a mental sigh of relief. Smarts ain’t his strong suit, but at least he won’t break his back. (God, he hopes he won’t break his back.) 

The next few trials are mostly troll games. They aren’t all intelligence games, but ones that need dexterity or quick-thinking. There’s everything from calculations, to making rock gardens, to even a game of what turns out to be tic-tac-toe, just with different symbols. However, that doesn’t mean Stan can relax. Some of these trials keep going until there’s a winner and it’s only after hours of playing that they declare the tic-tac-toe trial a tie. 

Ford looks like he’s really enjoying these trials (even the many hours of troll tic-tac-toe). He sidles up to Fungus to ask him questions about them, but the troll doesn’t often have the answers Ford wants. Stan can see it in the way his twins’ face falls at the answers. 

It doesn’t look like Fungus is interested in them either. In fact, Fungus looks a bit bored by these trials, although he does try his hardest to win them. Luckily, it’s not that hard. 

Thankfully, Stan has been playing games of all sorts with Ford lately so he manages to win the majority of these trials. They’re about tied when what looks like a wild animal bursts into the clearing. 

Fungus quickly stands up, knocking over the house of leaves Stan had been stacking. 

“Shhhiii--” Stan screws his mouth shut. No point in showing how mad he is. He can’t let the troll know how much some of these trials are getting to him. 

Then he sees the animal. “Woah.”

It looks like a bundle of seaweed with four legs just ran into their clearing. Stan slowly stands up as the animal starts sniffing around. It’s about the size of Waddles since Stan last saw him and he would have thought that it might be a pig or maybe a sheep, if it wasn’t for the fact that Stan can't really make out a head, or eyes in its mess of hair. (Fur? Seaweed? It could be any four-legged creature for all that Stan can make out.) 

Fungus rubs his hands together. 

“This is perfect,” he whispers to the twins. 

“Fungus is that...the 85th trial?” Ford whispers back. 

“That’s right, Ford. It’s a sea-pig. Normally we’d have to go out into the middle of the woods to find it, but since it’s here we might as well start at the 85th trial,” Fungus says, getting into a light stance. Stan does the same. 

“But...what about the rest of the intellectual trials?” Ford asks. “There are still quite a few left, like the number challenge and the foliage classifying challenge, and you can’t forget about the invertebrate breeding challenge.”

Ew. That does not sound like something Stan would enjoy, but he’s gotta admit, the intellectual challenges are an easy way to rack up wins. He doesn’t know what the sea-pig’s for, but he has a guess. And he’d hazard a guess that if the rest of the trials are all physical, he’ll probably lose. 

Fungus waves Ford off. “Those are the boring ones. Now pinning down a sea-pig, that’s a good suitor challenge. It shows that the suitor can be a good provider.”

Ford looks crestfallen at the words. Fungus doesn’t notice. 

“For this challenge, all either of us has to do is pin the pig down without losing it. It’ll be used in another challenge, so whatever you do, you’ll have to retrieve it. Don’t choke,” Fungus says, cracking his knuckles in excitement. 

“Right back at ya,” Stan shoots back. It looks like they’re doing this. 

“Ready, set, go!” Fungus calls out and immediately runs towards the sea-pig. The sea-pig notices the troll right away and makes a high pitched squealing noise. The pig darts away, lightning fast, and Stan curses. It doesn’t look like he’ll win this one. 

“Be careful, Stanley!” Ford calls out, worriedly. 

Stan turns around to give him a grin. "Don't worry! I know how to handle pigs! Ran into enough of 'em on the streets to know my way around 'em." 

Ford's expression immediately turns into exasperation. “Stan, please.”

Stan finger-guns which makes Ford shake his head. There, a grin was much better than that tight look of worry. Stan added a quick salute before he turned around and ran after the pig and the troll. He might not win this challenge, but that doesn’t mean he’s out of the game. Jokes aside, this isn’t the first time he’s had to catch a greased pig. 

Stan looks for a pattern in the pig’s movement, calculating its speed, and also studies it to see if it had any habits. Fungus chases after it tirelessly in a straight line, relying on his raw abilities to do the work for him. But it causes him to miss getting a hand on the pig. 

Following after him, Stan carefully eyes their progress until- Fungus dives, and the pig quickly jumps out of the way. Stan comes in from the pig’s blindspot and tackles it with his whole weight. He’s already calculated his trajectory and the pig’s other side hits the side of a stump. This is the part where Stan will press the pig down with his weight and grab its legs to turn it upside down and off the ground. 

At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen. 

But instead Stan gets taken aback by the fact that his hands are pressed away by the thing’s-  _ hairs _ ?  _ Tentacles _ ??? He wasn’t wrong when he thought it was covered with seaweed. The texture is smooth and slippery and moist (ugh), but they’re also alive and clearly a part of the sea-pig’s body. 

Stan loses purchase and the pig quickly slips out of his arms. 

“Nice try,” Fungus calls out, but not meanly. He quickly chases after the pig. 

Stan stands up slowly and tries to shake off the feeling of tentacles against his skin. 

Unfortunately, the pig is smarter than it looks and doesn’t allow Stan to get close to it again. It even tries to dash out of the clearing, but Fungus puts on a burst of speed and snatches it, lifting the pig easily over his head, his fingers fisted tightly in the creature's tentacles. He eagerly shows off his struggling prize to Ford, who politely claps. But not even a moment later, he immediately bashes the pig against a rock, and the animal dies upon impact. 

“What was that for?” Ford asks what Stan is thinking. Jeee-sus. That was violent. And a very good reminder of why he needs to win against the troll fair and square because he does not want to go against the guy in a fight. 

“It’s so you can cook it immediately,” Fungus says. 

Ford looks like he’s about to argue, but Stan shakes his head. Better to not make the extremely strong troll mad. Ford graciously takes the pig. 

“I would have liked to have studied it first,” Ford says, clearly irritated. 

Fungus doesn’t notice. “It’s tradition.” 

“That’s exactly why I wanted to study it,” Ford mumbles under his breath. Thankfully, Fungus doesn’t hear that either. Stan sends him a look. 

Ford pulls himself together. “How am I supposed to cook this sea-pig while announcing the events?”

“Oh, you’ll have time,” Fungus says confidently. “Because we’ve started the romantic quests!” 

Ford looks at him dubiously. “Okay. Let me just-” Ford looks around before gingerly placing the pig’s corpse onto the ground. (Ugh, just there in the dirt. Stan hopes that Ford will clean the meat, but he knows the extent of Ford’s culinary experience.) Then he goes back up to his tower and grabs the list. 

“Romantic Quests!” Ford calls out, but not as enthusiastically as before. “These will test the suitors’ romantic capabilities. Traditional troll courting rituals to show compatibility.”

“The first one is to pick the rare flower…” Ford squints, “the flower of desire. Hm. That might be a mistranslation, but we'll have to go with it- show your affection by bringing back the loveliest bloom.”

_ That doesn’t sound too bad _ , Stan thinks. And giving flowers makes sense. (The pig quest unfortunately also makes sense in hindsight, but at least this one sounds winnable, especially if Ford is picking the winner. Ford better pick him, even if he has the mangiest flower.) Oh! And maybe they could attempt to escape again. 

Stan thinks about hanging back, allowing Fungus to take the lead again so he can talk to Ford, but the troll is next to him and leading him away. “Come on, I’ll show you where the flowers are. Can’t have you saying that you lost due to a technicality. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll get you the best flower,” Fungus says, tossing Ford a wink. 

Stan looks back to see Ford waving at them a little miserably. He keeps watching, even as Ford starts to maneuver the pig corpse on the ground. No chance of Ford sneaking away and them slipping away when Fungus is distracted either. 

Stan holds back a sigh. 

“Okay, Troll-boy. Let’s do this.”

\-----

The smell hits him first. 

“What is that?” Stan says, immediately going to cover his mouth. It’s disgusting, like a cross between a football locker room and fish guts going rancid on the beach. Ugh! It’s invading his senses! Stan grabs his handkerchief and ties it around his face. That’s a little bit better. There’s sea salt crusted on the cloth, so when he breaths he’s mostly smelling the ocean. (A rather smelly ocean.) 

“That’s the sweet smell of the flower of desire,” Fungus says, too cheerfully and too nasally. Stan looks over at him and notices that his nose- the fucking troll’s nose is closed off. This little shit- “The flower is pretty gorgeous, big petals and big leaves, with great nectar, so its defense is its strong smell.” 

They come upon a field of flowers and Stan has to agree that the bright yellow, orange, red, and mixed color blooms are lovely. The flowers stand tall by themselves, and he could see how giving a person one or a bouquet of these would be impressive. The petals are a mix of sharp points and round hearts with deep green leaves. They’re unlike any flower he’s ever seen and potentially an anomaly in their own right. 

But this close up...Stan almost gags at the smell. They’re so pungent that Stan can feel his eyes water. 

He wonders how on earth the flower earned its name. More like an undesirable flower. Maybe Ford did translate the name incorrectly. 

Fungus gives him a hearty slap on the back. “Let’s get going. I’ll even wait for you so we can present them at the same time.” 

Stan nods, not wanting to open his mouth. The sooner he finds the right flower, the sooner they can leave. He wades into the flowers, which come up to about his knees. (The worst height. He can’t squat, he might squash some of the flowers, but they’re not tall enough for him to pluck at normal standing height. He’s going to have to bend his knees and his back.)

He looks through the field. He’ll know the exact flower that he wants when he spots it. (Ford will probably want something unique, a flower that’s exceptionally symmetrical, or one with an interesting pattern, or one with a lot of petals…he’ll know when he sees it.)

There’s one. A flower where its petals have two different patterns, split down straight down the middle of each petal. Yellow on one side and red on the other. (A...chimera plant if Stan remembers right.) 

Stan bends his knees (ouch) and goes to grab a petal to take a closer look-

“ _ Fuck _ !” 

Stan hisses in pain and pulls back his hand. What the fuck hurt him- he squints at the flower. When he looks closely the flower is fuzzy and when he looks more closely the ‘fuzz’ is actually spikes. He takes a peek at his hand which has tiny pinpricks of blood coming out. Shit. 

Swinging around, Stan looks over at Fungus, about to say a snide remark, when he sees the troll touching the flowers no problem. Great. So it’s just him and his pathetic human hands. 

Stan tries using some cloth to protect his hands, but the fibers aren’t dense enough to stop the spikes from stabbing him. Crap, he needs something to hold onto the flowers. Stan looks around and dashes back into the bushes. He starts rubbing bush leaves, until he finds smooth, thick, and large palm-type leaves. A few of them go into his back pocket which he’ll use a few to touch the other flowers themselves. 

Then he goes searching. 

\-----

Ford looks up from the sea-pig to see his twin and the troll disappear. He sighs. He would have liked to explore the island with them, especially with a guide who obviously knows the way, but it can’t be helped. He’s disappointed in general that he would be regulated to the sidelines for these quests, arguably some of the most interesting parts of this troll courtship ritual. But alas, it couldn’t be helped that he is playing the role of the courted. 

This sea-pig is interesting though. Hopefully, Ford would have time to look over the creature before he had to cook it. 

Ford takes a look at the rest of the quests. There are a few quests before dinner, so he has time. 

Then he reads some of the quests that are left. 

Ford purses his lips. Some of these are very romantic. He doesn’t have doubts per se, but Ford isn’t totally confident that his sloppy brother could win all of these. And Stan would have to win a large majority of these to win this courting tournament. 

Well, he wouldn’t worry about it now. From the looks of the quests, many of them are subjective in nature. The ‘winner’ would be determined by Ford himself and so he could choose Stan each time. His only concern was that Stan wouldn’t prove to be a good competitor. 

So Ford gets to work on the meal. 

\-----

Ford does not finish the meal nor does he have anything resembling a meal when he hears the bushes rattle. There are body parts and organs strewn apart, but nothing resembling anything that should be eaten (although he’s sure raw organs of this creature could be a delicacy). Ford guiltily puts away his notes and tries to pretend that he’s sorting- moving- doing something that resembles cooking. 

“We’re back! Please come judge our flowers,” Fungus calls out. 

“You’re back,” Ford says trying to keep his tone light. “I haven’t- quite finished yet with cooking.”

“Oh,” Fungus says, not quite happy, but not angry, just confused. “Well, I guess we could do another quest to give you more time.”

“That would be-” life-saving, is what Ford doesn’t say, because he wasn’t too sure if the troll would be mad at him for breaking tradition, “-much appreciated. Now if you could present your tokens.”

Fungus eagerly presents his bloom, a beautiful and large (very large) flower, as large as Ford’s head. It’s unlike any that Ford has seen on earth and Ford is instantly entranced by it. How did it have both sharp petals and round petals for no discernable reason? Not to mention oddly shaped leaves that matched the petals. And the vibrancy of the color! What sort of diet did it have to have such hue? And the design of the pattern on the petals, a weird mash of shapes that made no sense (very strange for a flower); Ford wanted to inspect every inch of it. 

But before he can touch it, Stan immediately steps in. “One sec.” Fungus frowns, but allows Stan to wrap the plant stem in what looks to be a palm frond. 

Ford gingerly takes it and instantly notices the spikes and pungent smell. Oh! And the plant has a wondrous defense system, how interesting. He gives the spikes a poke and looks at the resulting wound. Yes, it was very kind of Stan to wrap it, so Ford didn’t accidentally ruin the flower in the resulting surprise. 

Someone clears their throat. 

Ford looks up to see Fungus looking at him expectantly. 

“It’s beautiful,” Ford says, honestly. It really is lovely, he is very happy to have such an interesting specimen. 

Fungus beams. 

Ford takes another sniff (damn that is ripe, he wonders what sort of chemical processes the plant goes through to produce such a strong odor), when Stan steps up. Ford gently puts Fungus’ flower aside. Ford hopes that Stan also has a strong contender for a flower, because whatever flower he’s holding behind his back is obviously smaller than Fungus’s. 

Then Stan presents the flower to Ford and Ford is speechless. 

_ Incredible.  _

While Fungus’s flower is a prime example of the flower's vitality, it was most likely like all the other flowers in its species. 

Stan’s- Stan’s is a goddamn miracle. 

The flower has perfect petals, one sharp point then rounded petal then sharp again. The flower has an even amount of petals making it perfectly symmetrical. Not just the petals, but the stamen and the leaf placement also looks perfectly symmetrical. That would have drawn his eye alone, but not only is the plant symmetrical, it also has a chimera pattern, a perfect split down the middle where the left of the petals have one pattern and the right of the petal have another pattern. 

Ford gingerly takes the plant and then notices one last detail. How pale the plant is. Could it be?

Ford compares the flower with Fungus’s and thinks ‘yes’, the plant is also affected by albinism as well. 

Superb. 

It was as if Stan had searched for a flower that held all the anomalous traits this flower could have and had picked it out for Ford. 

Ford lifts his eyes to see Stan’s smug gaze. 

“Stan is the winner,” Ford says. 

Stan schools his face into something a little more neutral when Fungus offers his hand to shake. That’s when Ford notices how Stan’s hands are bandaged up. Something in Ford swoons at the thought of Stan searching through prickly and dangerous flowers to find him the perfect one. 

When they’re done, Ford quickly announces the next quest. “Present me with a chick from the Waterfall Eagle.”

Oh! He’s never heard about that before. He hopes it’s another anomaly he can study. 

Although perhaps this quest would present another chance to escape. 

They do not get the chance to escape when Fungus leads Stan away again, citing that this will be a good challenge for the both of them. 

Oh well, it gives him more time to look at his specimens. 

\-----

Stan can’t help the smile creeping up his face after they leave camp. The way Ford’s eyes lit up- he knew it was worth it to search through the flowers until he found the perfect one. He had to bend down and really dig amongst them (and damn, those thorns were strong and even went through the seat of his pants), but he found the perfect flower hidden almost in the muck. A quick shear with his swiss army knife and a little cleaning produced the most unique flower of them all. 

There’s a rustle of leaves and Stan reins in his sense of victory in order to concentrate on the next quest. Getting a bird chick doesn’t seem like such a grand thing, but he’s sure that whatever this task is, it’s also going to be a pain in the ass. 

He’s proven right, when he’s presented with a tree that’s growing next to a waterfall in the middle of a cliff. 

“The Waterfall Bird!” Fungus announces. “They’re one of the loveliest birds in the area, their plumage and meat highly sought after by trolls and predators alike. We’re actually quite lucky that this one isn’t living in the waterfall itself.”

Lucky? Like hell, they’re lucky. Or, Stan is not lucky. The unluckiest. This is exactly the sort of death-trap task he was hoping to avoid. All the tasks beforehand look easy compared to this bullshit. 

“So we just gotta climb up there and what? Grab the bird?” Stan asks, instead of saying his complaints aloud. 

“That’s right,” Fungus confirms. “I’m going to start climbing.” 

After the troll announces that, he launches himself at the side of the cliff. Thankfully, the journey looks slow going. Not only is the cliff unstable, it’s also moist due to its proximity to the waterfall. That gives Stan time to find a safer and smarter route. 

It takes him a little time to gather supplies but once he does, Stan is booking it up the side of the bluff the long (and safe) way around. He’s wheezing by the end of it, but once he’s looking over the side of the cliff, he’s glad he took the precaution. (Thankfully, he also tied a vine around his waist and on a nearby tree because the drop is steep.)

Stan’s right on top of the little chirpy beasts when he starts to drop fruit into their nest. As soon as the birds notice it, they start pecking and Stan mutters a ‘thanks’ under his breath for small mercies. He keeps dropping fruit until they notice him and start jumping up and down for more food. 

That’s when he lowers himself slowly off the side of the cliff closer to their nest. 

As he gets closer, he notices two things:

One, that Fungus is getting close to the nest (damn, he wishes he had more time). 

And two, that these birds are much, much bigger than he expected. They’re clearly the size of chickens despite the fact that they’re in fact baby chicks with downy feathers. 

Stan steels himself. He’ll just have to roll with it. 

And he lowers himself further before putting out his bait: more food, dangling on a vine. One of the chicks is strong enough to jump for it and Stan quickly uses his make-shift net to scoop it up. Once it’s secure (and distracted by the food he’s tossing in the net), he gathers the chick in his arms. 

Unfortunately, Fungus has also just secured a chick and is pressing it close to his chest as he quickly scales back down the cliffside. 

Shit. Stan didn’t think this was a timed challenge. Instead of climbing back up, Stan repels down the cliffside. He has just enough vine to make it close enough to the ground to jump and land heavily on his feet. (His back is going to make him regret that later, though.) Fungus is slow-going with one arm occupied and a chick to placate. 

Stan books it back to camp remembering how fast the troll can move. 

Not even a few moments later, he can hear someone catching up. 

Stan puts on a burst of speed even though his lungs and his body are killing him, and manages to arrive in the clearing at the same time as the troll. Ford is waiting for them, hands out-stretched and smiling, not to mention what looks like a meal waiting for them. 

Stan grins back, the sight of his lover cheering him up. He’s about to hand off the chick when there’s a loud screech in the air. 

“Oh no,” Fungus says, looking up and up. 

Stan follows his gaze to see a shadow blotting out the sky.  _ What’s that? _ It looks like a small airplane, and then it gets close enough that Stan can start making out the shape against the sun, OH SHIT- 

Stan and Fungus end up running around for what feels like hours, trying not to get attacked by the mother waterfall bird even though they drop the chicks as soon as they see her coming. It’s only when the chicks start really crying, does the mother stop trying to peck them to death. Then she flies away, chicks in tow. Ford looks disappointed and the two of them both fail the quest. 

Everything continues downhill from there. 

Ford presents their meal: a stew, some sea-pig steaks, and a mush. Stan has to force himself to eat the food even though it’s green, because maybe the meat of the animal was just supposed to be that color, or Ford put some greens in the dish. 

He’s proven wrong at the first bite of everything. The meat is charred and overcooked, everything is under-seasoned, and the mush might even be raw (he’s not sure what’s in it, to be honest). Fungus politely eats everything in front of him, although based on his lack of compliments maybe it doesn’t taste good to even the troll’s taste buds. (He saw how disgusting that stew Fungus made was.) Unfortunately it looks like the troll has a stronger stomach than him. 

Stan manages to pack everything away with a combination of sleight of hand, will-power, and spite. 

The next few quests are just as horrible as the others. Even though Stan wins most of them, he feels they're all just rubbing him wrong. Like, of course Stan knows in a contest of presenting ‘gifts’ that he’ll win because he knows Ford the best. Or, if they’re doing something to make Ford happy, yeah, Stan knows what he’s doing. How did Fungus (and Ford) ever think he had a chance of winning against Stan in these sorts of competitions?

When Ford announces that they only have one quest left, Stan is ready to leave this island and never come back. 

“This quest is worth far more than any of the events so far! Based on your current courtship points, whoever wins this quest, will win the tournament,” Ford announces grandly with a smile. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Stan almost explodes then and there, but he holds back because this is the last goddamn quest and as soon as it’s done then they’ll book it out of here. (He wants to win, he so desperately wants to win, but he’s tired and old, and he’s not sure how much strength he has left in him.)

Of course, the final quest ends up being an obstacle course. 

There’s another bullshit reason for having it as the last one, ‘oh, it proves the suitor’s dedication’, but Stan is just tired. They’ve hiked up what feels like half the island to get to the course which turns out to be a volcano (of fucking course), which the two suitors will have to climb to reach the courted. 

During Fungus’ explanation of the tradition, Stan tracks Ford’s progress across to the top of a volcano (a fucking volcano, inactive, presumably) and maps out a trail. Ford, apparently, is holding some type of rare flower that will protect him from most of the wildlife (the quest before this one was to acquire it, also a pain to complete), but Stan figures that a similar path wouldn’t be a problem. 

At that moment, Ford kicks a pebble that starts to roll down the mountain. It’s immediately snatched up by what looks like a flower with teeth. 

Yeesh. 

There are a ton of the flowers on the trail that Ford’s on and Stan second-guesses that route. Then he steels himself. Any other route will need significantly more physical strength and he’s not going to beat Fungus in that. 

Stan switches between watching Ford make his way up the path again, and looking for any other clues that will help him on his climb. 

There aren’t many. 

Eventually, Ford makes it to the top of the volcano. The man is pretty high up, so high that Stan can barely make out his expression. (Stan can tell that Ford is grinning though. Even with the situation so dire, the man is giddy from the two suitors fighting over him. Stan can see the flash of white from Ford's smile.)

Ford spreads out his arm with a flourish, a white handkerchief in one hand. “The final challenge! The two suitors will challenge the island’s volcano to reach their intended destination! Me!” He calls out. 

Fungus actually whistles at him and Stan feels a flash of irritation at the fact that Ford looks flattered. 

Ford clears his throat. “The winner will be the first one to reach me and bring me down the volcano! Suitors, get ready!” He holds up his handkerchief, while Stan and Fungus line up at their starting line. 

“Get set!”

Stan bends his knees, ready to run. 

“GO!”

Stan books it to the side, directly to the path that Ford took. Fungus however just runs forward in a loping stride. He’s able to take long strides up the mountain with no trouble. 

Shit. Stan’s going to have to concentrate if he wants to win. He looks out in front of him. He’s coming up to a swatch of flowers that are already starting to snap at him. No luck in that area, but he’s prepared.

He doesn’t have a flower with him (Fungus made sure of that), but what he does have is a pocketful of pollen from the same flower. Stan snatches some palm fronds from a nearby plant and rubs pollen on them. Then he dual wields the fronds, using them to smack away the carnivorous plants. 

He jumps over holes and loose rocks and almost stumbles into a ravine when he realizes he’s allowed the plants to push him away from Ford’s original path. 

“Oh, come on, Stanley! You can do it!” 

Stan can't help up but look up when he hears Ford cheering him on. The man barely looks closer, but Stan can see that Ford is facing him, clearly happy to see him coming his way. Stan’s heart leaps at the sight. He’s got to win this. 

Stan chances a glance over at Fungus- who’s ahead, fuck. 

Stan picks himself up and starts booking it again. He chances it by running through a patch of plants and winces when some of the bites go through his jeans. Thankfully, smacking them with enough brute force is enough to pry them off. One flower in particular sinks its fangs into his flesh, making him grunt in pain. When he yanks away, the flower actually comes with him and that causes the rest of them to back off some. 

Fungus yells out and Stan sees that he’s tangling with some of the other plantlife on the mountain. A particularly clingy vine plant seems to have grabbed onto the troll and won’t let go. Stan smirks. 

He picks up speed. They’ve climbed maybe half the volcano. At this rate though, it looks like Stan has a good chance of winning. 

But of course, Stan spoke too soon, because when he steps down, he rolls his ankle. He catches himself, but the rock he stepped on comes to life and pelts itself at his head. “What the-” 

Another rock rolls towards him aggressively and Stan has to jump backwards to get out of its way. That’s when he realizes it’s not actually a rock, but some sort of creature that looks like a rock. 

He ends up fighting it and losing time. When he kills one and uses its corpse as a warning, the others back off. Then he ends up encountering some moles. Then some of the vines that were plaguing Fungus. It seems like each time he defeats something on the mountain, there’s another annoying thing that takes its place. 

But he can tell he’s closer to Ford now. Close enough that Stan feels like he can see the laugh lines on Ford’s face. 

“I’ve got this!” 

That’s when Stan hears Fungus’ voice. Stan looks sideways and up, and spots Fungus up the mountain. Stan’s heart plummets. The troll is close to the top, too close. There’s no way that Stan will beat him. 

Stan keeps moving anyways, hoping that some miracle will grant him the win, but Fungus is rapidly approaching the goal. 

This close, Stan can see the moment when Ford realizes that Fungus is about to win. The man’s face slackens, and his mouth drops open in disappointment. Then he bites his lips, trying not to look affected, but failing. 

Stan’s failed him. 

Stan stumbles and his chin hits the ground. He can feel his skin scrape against the rocky terrain and draw blood. He winces at the pain, but thinks he deserves it. 

His body shakes even on the ground. 

What?

Stan looks up to see Ford stumble and Fungus almost fall backwards onto his backside. The ground shakes again and this time Stan can hear a distinct rumble. 

The stones around him start to jump as the rumbling continues. 

“It’s the volcano! It’s going to blow!” Fungus yells, his face rather pale. He looks unlike his usually confident self. 

“That can’t be right!” Ford yells so he can be heard over the din of noise. “Volcanoes don’t erupt that fast!” 

“Well, this one does!” Fungus yells back. “We gotta get down! Come on!” 

The troll starts sliding down the mountain, leaving the two humans alone. Stan notices that the troll doesn’t look like he’s taking any damage from doing so. Damn troll and his fucking invulnerability. And fuck him for leaving Ford alone too. The troll could’ve easily picked Ford up and run away. Wasn’t that the whole point? 

But no, the coward keeps running and doesn’t look back, even as the volcano rumbles dangerously. The ground is shaking so hard that Stan doesn’t think he can stand and Ford comes dangerously close to tipping backwards towards the mouth. 

That makes his heart leap up in concern and before he can think about it too hard, Stan starts crawling towards Ford. 

“Stanley!” Ford cries out, sliding down carefully so that he can meet him in the middle. 

When they can touch again, Stan feels a profound sense of relief. “Come on, let’s go-” 

But before Stan can finish that sentence, the shaking stops. 

Uh oh. 

Stan snatches the both of them off the ground and they’re up on their feet when the mountain erupts. Something hot, dark, and heavy starts spewing out of the top and they’re way too close- Stan looks around even as Ford stares at the volcano in something akin to wonder. 

Stan would roll his eyes if he had time, but he doesn’t, so instead he spots an escape route. To the side of the mountain is a cliff and past that is the ocean. Bingo. 

In a practiced move, Stan strips off his jacket, scoops Ford up and onto his back for a piggyback ride (his back protesting the whole time), and starts running. Ford starts to yell, but Stan can't hear him over the sounds of his own thoughts and the rumble of the eruption. 

Running down the mountainside is dangerous and Stan almost slips a few times, but it would be certain death if they stayed. Thankfully, Stan’s survival instincts keep them stubbornly moving and it’s all too soon before they’re in front of the ocean. 

Stan doesn’t hesitate before leaping off the edge. 

Ford is clinging to him now, cursing, but Stan is concentrating on opening his jacket- yes! The jacket opens up like a parachute. It slows down their descent, but not enough, and the ocean is coming down close. 

It can’t be helped. Stan grits his teeth and steers them as far away from the volcano as he can. When the ocean rushes forward to meet them, Stan makes sure he hits the water first. The last thing he hears is his brother’s voice. 

\-----

There’s a moment where Ford thinks Stan is going to lose the race up the volcano. 

It’s only to be expected. Fungus has proven himself stronger, faster, and all around more physically fit than most humans, let alone Stan. But there’s a part of Ford that had wanted more than anything for Stan to win and prove his suit. 

Now that the man is about to lose, Ford realizes how terrible their argument was to start this whole thing. 

He wonders how he’s going to get them out of this mess when the volcano starts rumbling. Then he wonders how they’re going to get out of  _ this _ mess when the volcano actually starts to erupt. At least when Fungus runs, they’ve resolved the first problem and only need to resolve the latter one. 

It seems almost poetic that Stan reaches him first and gets them down the mountain. He’s proven himself worthy and Ford can’t believe the audacity that his brother has to  _ outrun a volcano _ . When they hit the water, Ford is quick to look at the volcano and sees that they’ve escaped from the worst of it. 

Ford laughs. How could he have forgotten that his best adventures happen with Stan, that the best of things in general happen when his brother is by his side? 

They can overcome anything together. 

Ford turns to look at Stan, but doesn’t see the man and he panics. When he spots the bubbles at the surface of the waves, he dives down and manages to snatch his brother before he sinks too deep. When they break the surface Stan doesn’t react. He listens in close and is relieved when he can hear the sound of Stan breathing. 

Ford curses and he quickly starts swimming towards shore. Luckily he can see the Stan O’ War II. 

Unfortunately, it’s still a long swim back, especially when he has to drag the dead weight of his brother along with him. The sight of the man so still brings back bad memories and Ford stews in them on the swim back to the boat. 

Eventually he can’t help reach the conclusion that the reason why Stan’s in this state (again) is...ultimately because of Ford and their fight. It doesn’t matter who’s right and who’s wrong, they should have talked it out before things got so bad. God, he thought they were long past this stage, but it seemed like that they were bound to repeat their mistakes again. 

Ford would have to reflect on his decisions that had led to this outcome and apologize to Stan for them. 

\-----

Much later, safe and sound on the Stan O’ War II, a fully conscious Stan reflects on the day he and his twin had had while Ford carefully and expertly bandages him up. The creature they had met, the tradition they’d participated in, and the unmitigated disaster it had all culminated in.

“This day was pretty fucked up, wasn’t it?”

He hears a peal of surprised laughter behind him, and suddenly feels his twin’s trembling lips on the top of his head in a sorry attempt to muffle the sound in his thinning hair. Stanley grins and reaches up, runs his fingers through Ford’s curly locks, and savors the moment. To think, he could have lost this. This closeness, this warmth, this  _ love _ , all because of some stupid fight.

“Indeed it was,” he hears from above him, and feels on his scalp, his twin having evidently caught his breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever hear the word ‘tradition’ the same way again after this experience. In fact, I do believe I’ll be side-eyeing the next person to say it.” Stan snorts in amusement and feels the lips in his hair twist into a wry grin before puckering to place a light peck on the top of his head. “Really, if a volcano is necessary for your ‘tradition’, the very  _ least _ you could do would be to check for inactivity.”

Stan laughs. “It’s Volcano 101! You gonna advocate for volcano etiquette now, Ford?”

Stanford giggles, running his hands carefully over the tape securing a square of gauze over Stan’s shoulder blade. “After what we just went through? You bet your sweet behind I will!” 

Stan grins and tilts his head up to catch his brother’s eye. “I’ll make the signs and t-shirts,” he says, his grin turning into a wide smile as Ford tries to hide his chuckles behind a large hand. 

Ford drops one hand to Stan’s shoulder and the other to the back of Stan’s head, using light pressure to suggest he tilt his head forward. “Don’t distract me while I bandage you! I still have some spots to get to. Just sit still and let me take care of you.”

That sobers Stan. When he feels one hand leave the back of his head, he’s quick to capture the one on his shoulder to keep it from getting out of reach. 

“Hey,” Stan says quietly, before bending down to place a light kiss to his twin’s knuckles. He feels Ford still behind him and once he’s sure he has his attention, he continues. “I just wanted to say, uh, about earlier, when we fought? I said a lotta stuff that was way outta line, and I’m-I’m really sorry.” 

He feels the tension in Ford’s forearm loosen, indicating that his brother is getting closer, so he tries to stumble through his words and emotions quickly before he has to look his twin in the eyes.

“That stuff that I said earlier today? It was all stupid. You’re not crazy. You’re the smartest guy I know! I just wish you’d bring me in on it more, yanno? Tell me what’s going on more often, so I don’t have to feel like I’m trying to catch up all the time. And the stuff I said about your ‘history’ and whatever was just so  _ dumb _ -!”

He feels a hand tenderly grasp his chin and guide it gently upwards towards Ford’s waiting mouth. The kiss they share warms him from the inside out, and he releases Ford’s hand in favor of cupping Ford’s slightly bristly cheek, his other hand going for the nape of Ford’s neck. 

They stay that way for a while, their lips meeting and parting again and again. Stan revels in the warmth they generate together, Ford’s scent, his taste, his touch. It feels comforting and familiar, and Stan briefly entertains the thought of nothing existing outside this little bubble of space between them. That they’re the only two beings in existence, breathing each other’s air and taking up all the space in the world. 

When Ford does eventually pull away, putting space between them briefly before bringing their foreheads together, Stan keeps his eyes closed for a little while longer, savoring the dark warmth and the last, fleeting whispers of togetherness. 

“Stan,” he hears Ford whisper, as if hesitant to break the spell they’ve been under for who knows how long. “I forgive you. Of course I do. And I hope you can forgive me for my pigheadedness and pride. I should have told you about the harpies before we went, no matter how excited I was. And not leaving Fungus when we had the chance? Unconscionable. I was being a complete and utter ass when it came to the whole ‘suitor’ business-”

“Whoa, whoa,  _ whoa _ !” Stan laughs. “You’re actually  _ admitting _ to being an ass? Where’s my phone? I gotta record this or no one’ll ever believe me-”

“Oh hush up and let me apologize properly,” Ford chuckles and Stan laughs too before closing his eyes once more. “Yes, yes, I was being a complete and utter ass about the whole thing. You’re amazing for putting up with me and tolerating my desire to learn more about anomalies. It was a dangerous situation I put you in by keeping you in the dark with the harpies, and an even  _ more _ dangerous situation I put you in with Fungus. You’re my partner in everything, and it’s time I treated you like it.” He says, cupping Stan’s cheek and rubbing his cheekbone with his thumb. “I promise I won’t make that mistake again.”

Stan smiles and opens his eyes to see Ford staring back from only an inch away, impossible to look away from. “And what about troll boyfriends?” He asks, laughing as Ford groans and pulls away, covering his eyes in embarrassment. He keeps a tight hold of Ford’s right hand though, and reels him back in. “You gonna be good and not go collecting any more of those?”

“I’m certainly going to be a  _ lot _ more wary about my interactions and how they may be coming across when I communicate across cultures from now on,” Ford says, chuckling as Stan gives him a mock-stern look. “But yes, of course, no more troll boyfriends, end of story. Believe it or not, this whole experience has been a real turn off.”

Stan laughs and pulls Ford in for a kiss on the cheek. “If it wasn’t, I’d worry about you more than usual.”

Ford scoffs and Stan bites his lip briefly before he adds, “I don’t share well, yanno? Once I’ve committed, I’ve committed. It’s that person for me, or no one.” He gives Ford’s hand a gentle squeeze. “And that’s for life.”

Ford looks back at Stan for a while and Stan’s afraid he didn’t make his point clear enough until Ford smiles and pulls Stan back in for a hug. “You’re it for me, too, Stan,” he whispers, holding him tight and secure. “I won’t doubt it, not ever again. You went above and beyond for me today, and I’ll never forget it. I’m so,  _ so _ sorry to have put you through any of that. It was  _ so _ stupid, and so completely unfair.” 

Stan turns his face into Ford’s shoulder to give it a light nuzzle in an attempt to hide and wipe away the sudden onset of tears, but he doesn’t think he’s quite succeeded if Ford’s light shushing and comforting touch to the nape of his neck is any indication. 

“I love you, Stanley Pines, and I always will.” Ford murmurs gently. “No matter what happens, no matter who I meet. No one could ever hope to match your strong will and large heart. You’re the love of my life.”

Stan grasps his brother like a lifeline and allows the tears to flow, then. Allows Ford to rock him slowly back and forth and soothe his frayed nerves. Allows the soft touch under his eyes as Ford wipes away his tears and accepts soft lips as they brush comfortingly and tenderly against his own.

Safe and sound on his boat, with his brother in his arms, Stan can finally rest and be at peace.

-

-

-

-

-

It takes over a week for Stan to recover (of course it does, he’s not a young man anymore and he has a fussy lover) and he should be resting for longer, but he’s going stir crazy. So when Ford steps out to resupply, Stan takes that chance to get out of bed and actually do something, anything. He hasn’t been out on the deck for more than five minutes for weeks. 

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to finish up in the bathroom, but he gets out eventually and goes into the kitchen, preferably to eat something fatty and unhealthy. 

That’s when he notices all the...stuff in the kitchen. 

It’s not unusual for Ford to leave papers and books everywhere as he works on his journals, but normally Stan is there to rein him in. At the very least he usually keeps the place clear for when they eat, but Stan has been shunted off to the bedroom. There’s no one to stop Ford’s intense hobbies. 

But it seems like Ford has gone cra- no, wild with his research. There are plant and animal samples  _ everywhere _ . 

“It’s like we took the fuckin’ jungle with us when we left the island,” Stan mutters to himself as he pushes back some palm fronds to get to the fridge. He has to push other leafy greens to the side to use the counter and gives up on eating at the table when he’s done. There are way too many delicately looking flowers and feathers and who-knows-what laying around. 

He’ll go eat on the deck. It’s been awhile since he’s been outside anyway. 

“What the-” 

Stan stops short. 

What he finds on the deck is nothing short of a jungle. There are whole plants sitting on the deck, pots of dirt, and even the carcass of an animal. Stan immediately plugs up his nose. Ugh, it was like sweaty socks and fish guts. In fact, it smells awfully familiar…

A little looking around and Stan spots a pile of familiar seaweed tentacles going rancid on the deck. 

“Stan!” 

That’s Ford’s voice, somewhere off to the side of the boat, but Stan can’t see him because there’s too much jungle in the way. 

There’s the familiar sound of their rowboat docking to their ship and Ford pops out of the trees. (How the hell did Ford get trees on the deck!)

“What are you doing out of bed?” He asks. 

“Apparently I’ve been letting you go- absolutely wild without me,” Stan says back, pointing at the remains of the sea-pig carcass. “You yell at me when I leave fish guts on the deck, but what about this?”

Ford coughs and Stan is glad to see that the man is at least a little embarrassed by what he’s done. Stan’s surprised that the ship hasn’t attracted a whole colony of gulls with all the junk on deck. 

“I couldn’t just leave everything you brought me on the island! Those were gifts!”

Stan feels his heart clench at that. And it’s true. When he looks around, besides the obvious plantlife lifted from the island, all of Stan’s ‘gifts’ from the trials are on display: feathers from the waterfall chick, a carving he made, palm fronds, and a lot more. 

“You kept it all.”

“I did.”

Stan doesn’t want any of it on the deck, but he has to admit, it’s rather flattering that Ford kept it all (jeez, even the stack of rocks from that one trial). 

“Well, I suppose I’ll let you off this time,” Stan says gruffly to hide the emotion in his voice. “But you have to get this cleaned up soon.”

“Of course,” Ford says unconvincingly. “I’ll get it done while you're resting up.”

Stan gets shuffled back onto the boat and he grumbles all the way back even as he’s fighting a smile at spotting his flower of desire placed as the centerpiece of the whole mess. They can clean it up later. 

**Author's Note:**

> Caliowl - Thank you so much for reading! :D We had a blast writing this, and I can only hope y’all will get a kick out of reading it. Also, a big Thank You! to Nightfoliage for going along with my silly idea XD You’re awesome, and I had SO much fun! <3
> 
> Nightfoliage - Thanks for reading~ This one took us a while, because of my insane fic schedule. Thanks for caliowl for being patient me and cheering me on :) Hopefully we'll have more fics to come. Have any ideas for us?


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